


Tie a string around my chest

by hungerpunch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, always-a-girl!niall, always-a-girl!zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungerpunch/pseuds/hungerpunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Zayn share a class at university and slowly explore their mutual crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tie a string around my chest

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [cyclogenesis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/addictedkitten/pseuds/cyclogenesis) and [k8 the gr8](http://gollumgollum.livejournal.com/); thanks darlings <3

Niall shifts in her seat, trying to stay awake as their history professor drawls on, and on, and on. It's not that she doesn't find World War II an interesting subject, it's just that she doesn't do well with lecture classes and does even worse when the lecture is delivered in unwavering monotone, even if he has a cool Russian accent.

Something softly pokes her arm and she turns her head to see Zayn. They met in this class at the beginning of spring term in January, when everyone was still bustling around in half-a-dozen layers, tracking snow across the floor from heavy boots and sporting pink cheeks from the wind. 

Niall remembers the first time she saw Zayn, looking cute as a button, snuggled in her wool scarf with a faint red shine at the tip of her nose, dark hair looping down from her trendy beanie. They got grouped together right away for a class exercise and ever since then, Zayn has sat next to Niall without fail.

Now, Zayn discreetly pushes a piece of paper over to her. Her nails are painted pastel shades for spring even though April’s been positively dreary so far. Niall looks past the manicure and grins. Zayn's drawn up a game of hangman, and is handing one of her neon colored pens over to Niall so she can begin guessing.

Niall takes the pen and quickly writes down “A.” Zayn takes the pen back and draws a little circle in the noose. They go on for a minute or two, and Niall is only escaping death by a hand when she guesses “thunderstruck.” Zayn draws a smiley face, and when Niall glances up from the paper Zayn is smiling too and Niall tries not to blush as she smiles back. She can only look at Zayn’s happy, crinkling eyes for a few seconds before the beauty of it starts to hurt, some emotion she can’t decipher glowing hot in her ribcage. She returns her focus to her own notebook and absently doodles stars in the margins instead.

She’s interrupted just once more when Zayn slides a folded piece of scrap paper over to her. Niall scoops it off and unfolds it beneath the table. _Want to come over later?_

 

"It tastes loads better with some soda water in it," Zayn insists, holding out a plastic cup filled with cheap white wine and some strawberry Volvic. 

“So really just a spritzer,” Niall says, eyeing the cup warily, having taken an unfortunately large gulp of the wine by itself not five minutes ago. She hadn't liked it at all, couldn't understand the attraction some people had to cheap wine, and more specifically cheap white wine. To her it tasted like rubbing alcohol. She’d rather have a pint.

But because it's Zayn standing there offering, she takes the cup and tries again. Her eyebrows go up in surprise; she finds she quite likes it. She licks her lips and smiles. "Tastes like licorice," she comments, handing the cup back over.

"Yeah," Zayn agrees with a small grin. "Want me to fix you a glass?"

"Sure, thanks." Zayn ambles away to the kitchen to fix the drink, leaving Niall alone in the living room. She looks around, bouncing her leg a little nervously as she sits on the old comfy couch, observing the prayer flags strung along the walls and the ridiculous mass of old VHS tapes sitting under the tiny television. It’s not the first time they’ve hung out but it’s the first time Niall’s been to Zayn’s place, and it feels a lot more intimate than sharing the most microscopic table at some hipster coffee shop for some reason. Niall flicks her long, bottle-blonde hair over her shoulder and twists the ends around her fingers; an idle habit.

Zayn comes back with a glass for Niall, who takes it and sips carefully. "So what movie do you want to watch?" Zayn asks.

"Um, whatever you want." She shrugs. "I'm not really in the mood for anything scary, though."

"All right, well, let's look." Zayn moves to kneel by the pile of movies and shuffles through them, pulling out a few and getting Niall's opinion. By process of elimination, they wind up with _Dirty Dancing_ and Zayn settles back down on the couch next to Niall.

They watch the movie in relative silence, but Niall's skin burns and tingles the whole time where Zayn's arm and thigh are pressed to hers.

 

That night Niall lies in her bed, snuggling up to her body pillow in just her lemonade yellow trunks, closing her eyes and hoping for swift sleep. Her mind betrays her and summons up an image of Zayn instead. Her arms impulsively tighten around her pillow as she thinks of Zayn with her thick, black hair that smells of jasmine and her doe eyes and her caramel skin. Zayn with her legs for days and her glossy, mischievous smile.

Niall curls her toes beneath her sheets, bites the inside of her cheek, and banishes the image. She squirms deeper into her mattress and just about forces herself to sleep.

 

This time, Zayn comes over to Niall's flat. They're supposed to be working on a project, but they end up turning on _Sirens_. Before Niall can sit down on the couch Zayn snags her wrist and pulls her down onto her lap. Niall is tense for several long moments, her heart beating in her ears, hyper-aware of every single inch of their skin that’s touching. Eventually, she forces herself to relax, even if she can only do so gradually and in minute degrees. Zayn's bracelet-laden arms circle around her stomach, pulling her close, one thumb stroking the strip of Niall’s exposed hip, setting her on fire. Niall doesn't look at her, and doesn't say anything, just swallows thickly and trains her gaze on the idiots on television driving around in their ambulance. They watch the show in silence, unmoving until one of Niall's roommates bangs their front door open and they jump apart.

 

Zayn sends her a text the next day, at 4:32pm that says _Didn't mean to make last night weird x_

Niall twists her hair around her fingers, chews her bottom lip. Her fingers hover over her keys before she types—in a great rush, like she's scared if she doesn't do it quick she won't have the guts to do it at all— _you didnt. i like hanging out with you._ She sends it, and then tries not to worry if it was too stupid, turning on Justin Bieber and cleaning her room instead. 

 

"Read me something?" Niall asks, peering at Zayn's face over Skype. It’s Easter holiday before summer term so Niall is back in Ireland and Zayn is visiting home in Bradford. Zayn had pinged her on Facebook saying _Hey you should get on skype_ and Niall hadn’t even hesitated. It's almost one in the morning, and the two have been talking for over an hour, running the gamut between uni (discovering they share another class next term, to both their obvious delights), various R &B groups, cartoons from their childhood, what a Horan Easter is like. Niall had fooled around on her guitar for a little, laughing as Zayn sang nonsense along with it, but had gotten sleepy quickly and set it aside. 

"Read you to sleep, you mean?" Zayn grins. Niall gives a tiny nod, not bothering to lie. "All right, what would you like to hear?"

"What have you got?"

Zayn rummages around her desk for a second. "I’ve got my Qur’an," she eventually answers. “Or _The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic_.” She grins at the camera before picking up the last book. "Or _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_."

Niall laughs, considering. "The Qur’an," she decides.

"Really?" Zayn asks, raising her eyebrows. Niall nods. Zayn shrugs, hefting the book into her lap. "Any sort of preference at all or...?"

"Nah," Niall murmurs. She doesn’t know enough about it to understand what all is in the book, but she’s glad to listen to Zayn read it. She unplugs her laptop and moves over to her bed, where she gets under the covers before adjusting the screen so that she can see Zayn's face properly. "Whatever you wanna read."

Zayn cracks it open and informs her that she’ll read a bit of _Ya Sin_ , saying something about the heart of the Qur’an, but Niall falls asleep after just a few minutes of the dense text in Zayn’s quiet rasp, which, she figures in the morning, was the point anyway. 

 

Summer term begins and they stick together like glue in the class they share. Their first project isn’t a group one but they decide to do it together anyway, heading down to Shaftesbury Avenue to take photos and hopefully a tour or two of some theatre houses. It’s actually a nice, sunny day outside and Zayn’s wearing a floral-print mini-skirt and a black, ruffled top, looking too sexy for homework. Niall can’t stop sneaking glances at her shoulders, calves, ankles. She pushes her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and hopes they’re opaque enough to hide her staring.

Slowly, they become aware of an angry yelling. It gets louder as they move along and eventually they cross paths with a street preacher. He is a tiny old man with dark skin and white hair, waving his bible above his head and hollering much too loud for the size of his body. It only takes a second to parse that he’s preaching against gays. Niall's blood heats up. She can practically feel the animosity that begins to radiate from Zayn.

Zayn’s anger gives Niall courage, and she slips her hand into Zayn's firmly. She can tell Zayn's surprised, but the other girl just squeezes her hand back. The old man sees them and targets them, calling them an abomination. Niall is afraid Zayn's going to hit him when a middle-aged man and woman who have been walking in the same direction as them for a few blocks steps in between them and their assailant. 

“Don’t listen to ignorant people, sweethearts,” the woman says loudly, the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes crinkling as she forces a smile. “Just keep walking.” 

 

Lying on the floor of Zayn's bedroom, listening to Usher’s _Confessions_ album, Niall finds the tension in the room is setting her nerves on edge. It's not bad tension per se, but there's so obviously something going on here that they're not addressing for what Niall can’t help but feel is her own sake—that Zayn is entirely aware of it but trying to be courteous. Zayn is lying parallel to Niall, arms behind her head and foot thumping along with the music. After a few minutes, she feels Niall's stare on her and turns her head to meet her gaze. "I like that necklace," Zayn says softly.

"Thanks," Niall replies, touching the guitar pick that's tied to a thin strip of brown leather. It was one of her brother's guitar picks that she's fashioned into a necklace so she can keep a part of him with her at all times. She doesn't tell Zayn this story though, because she has something more pressing to say. "Zayn?" she asks nervously, her body beginning to tremble against her will.

"Yeah?"

"Would you ever...kiss me?" She can't manage anything above a whispery squeak. Niall picks at the carpet rapidly with twitching fingers.

She doesn't know how it happens, but in the amount of time it takes to blink, Zayn is hovering above her, dark eyes boring into Niall's own, searching. Niall holds her breath, shocked into stillness. And then Zayn kisses her, just firm enough to make sure Niall knows it really happened, and for that time Niall’s entire world hones down to the feel of soft, slick lips and the smell of jasmine as Zayn’s hair falls in a curtain around their faces. When Zayn pulls away, they're both blushing. "Does that answer your question?" she asks. 

Niall can’t help but to smile emphatically, then. “Would you do it again?”


End file.
